Safekeeping
by Isobel Kelte
Summary: A visit to a neighboring planet brings SGA-1 to an amazing find, but their expedition becomes a nightmare when its secrets are revealed. Teamfic, whump.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: _Takes place in late Season 3, sometime between "Tao of Rodney" and "Sunday." This is my first SGA fic, so feedback is greatly appreciated! Review and I'll love you forever._

* * *

It could be said that the Ardonians were a very meticulous people. It could also be said that they were experts on wasting time. Dr. Rodney McKay seemed to like the second wording better, and demonstrated this by repeating it often as SGA-1 waited for their hosts to finish preparing for their entry to the half-ruined stone structure nearby.

"They do not believe anything should go to waste; it is very deeply ingrained in their culture," explained Teyla patiently as the scientist stood fuming. "The plants that have grown over the entrances to the Pergatum have many uses for the Ardonians."

Rodney needlessly readjusted the settings on his life signs detector for the hundredth time. "It's just too bad they waited to do their weeding for when we actually have something important to look at."

"_Might_ have something important," came Sheppard's voice. He emerged from behind the corner of the large stone building, still lugging the strange scythe-like tool the Ardonians were using the clear away the overgrowth. "I remember you saying that the energy readings could be just any old power source, with a slight chance of being a ZPM."

"Well, yes, but that's not the point." Rodney waved a hand at Sheppard dismissively, not bothering to look up from his scanner. "The point is that at this rate, by the time we actually get in there the power source will be used up and we'll die of old age."

Sheppard only grinned at him. "It'd go a lot faster if you helped us instead of complaining; Ronon's already cleared half the building, by himself." He held out the scythe, which was nearly as tall as McKay. "Well, not a lot faster. It'd at least give you a much-needed workout."

Rodney simply shot the Colonel a glare, clutching the scanner possessively and eyeing the scythe with disgust. "I'll leave that to the rest of the grunts, thank you."

It was at that moment "the rest of the grunts" chose to approach. Ronon was with them, carrying his scythe over his shoulder as if it were a broomstick. "Don't worry, McKay. After your training with me tomorrow, work like this'll seem like nothing."

McKay paled. "That's tomorrow already? I...that is to say, there isn't-- I mean, Katie Brown-- yes! I have a date with Katie, afraid I can't come--"

"Katie's back on earth visiting family, McKay; that one won't work today," interrupted Sheppard. Ronon simply gave one of his I-love-watching-you-squirm smirks.

One of the Ardonians cleared his throat. "The way is open now, friends," he said with a hesitant smile as he brushed the dirt from his hands into the planter lining the path. "Please, be careful. No one has entered the Pergatum for many years."

"Got it," replied Sheppard. "Thanks for the help."

"I must assist with the storage of the karren vines we have gathered. You may enter now, but please do not touch anything until we can come to assist you."

McKay shifted at this, obviously fighting the urge to scoff, roll his eyes, or comment on the preposterous idea that he would need any assistance.

"Thank you for your welcome and your help, Synde. We are very grateful." Teyla dipped her head with her hands clasped under her chin, mirroring the Ardonian custom. Synde and the other workers repeated the gesture before beginning to gather the vine-filled sacks and working tools.

It took only a moment for excitement to replace Rodney's impatience. He rushed heedlessly inside with eagerness rivaling a child on Christmas. His excitement proved infectious, and it was no wonder.

The Pergatum, or court of cleansing, as Weir said the Ancient roughly translated to, stretched out in murky shadows before them; by some trick of architecture it seemed far more vast than it appeared from the outside. The lofty, vaulted ceiling recalled the Gothic cathedrals of Europe. Stone pillars of varying height rose to meet or fall just short of the ceiling, inlaid with a strange metal that gave a weak flourescant glow in the dimness.

All of this garnered the least of their attention, though. A skylight in the very center of the hall laid a pool of green-flecked light beneath it, in which rose a tall statue of a robed woman. The carven eyes were closed and face serene; one stone hand was held out beckoningly and the other held a sword at her side, point downward. Piping and chutes twirling around its base and sides indicated it was once a fountain, but the dust and caked grime seemed to have been dry for centuries. McKay was at the statue in a flash, stopping just short of touching it.

"Oh, this has to be it! Just look at it; usually the Ancients wouldn't put this much art into a power source, it's got to have some other purpose. If I could just get some readings--"

"Rodney, the Ardonians may know useful information about what is here," Teyla reminded. "We had best wait for them."

"Oh, right, 'cause the Beverly Hillbillies here are going to teach us how to best use picks and shovels and--" he motioned expansively with his hands, "--and giant scytheblades to operate Ancient technology." There was no real bite behind his words, though, and he found a reasonably comfortable stone ledge to sit on.

"It is pretty cool," Sheppard commented with a shrug; he didn't bother to hide a smug expression as he waited for the highly predictable response.

"Cool? _Cool?_ You never cease to amaze me with your gift for understatement, Colonel. This is obviously Ancient technology mixed with medieval workmanship. As little as I care about the whole culture-research thing this is _not_ something that happens often, or at all for what we know. I mean, who knows what we could find out from this place?"

Another indifferent shrug. "Whatever it is, I'm sure it'll be cool, too."

A voice echoing in from the doorway ruined Sheppard's chance to see if the scientist would rise to the bait a second time. "Excuse me, Colonel Sheppard, but Regent Therell wishes to discuss a few small details of our relations with the Lanteans before you begin. Come this way, please?"

Sheppard grimaced the moment Synde's back was turned. "It'd probably be best if you came too, Teyla. I heard this Regent Therell guy isn't the easiest to talk to."

A smile tugged at Teyla's mouth, but she nodded gravely. Before leaving, Sheppard glanced back at McKay, who was happily munching on a Power Bar. "Ronon, keep an eye on him--and if he tries anything, make sure to add stick fighting to his training tomorrow."

"Oh, ha ha ha ha," Rodney scoffed around a mouthful of Power Bar.

* * *

One of the first things Teyla learned to do as a negotiator was to read the faces of those she spoke to. It was a useful skill, and in far more than negotiation; it allowed her to see through John's careless facade, Rodney's hostile bluster, Ronon's brooding silence.

But as Regent Therell greeted her and Sheppard and introductions were made, she found herself unnerved. He was a tall, thin man approaching old age, with a tanned face and dark hair peppered with gray. Callouses on his hands and muscles that time hadn't yet withered showed Teyla he did not shun work as many leaders she had met over the years did. All of this Teyla would normally take as good signs, but there was a certain blankness to him when she tried to read his face. It was like trying to read a book written in another language. However, years of careful practice allowed her to mask any reaction with a pleasant, open expression.

"We are honored by your people's interest in our land," the Regent began the moment the head-dipping and hand-clasping ended. "And your wish to trade will help us greatly, I am sure. But there must be limits to your exploration. The Pergatum is a sacred place as well as a symbol of our history."

John was wandering around the room, making a show of studying the leaves of the plants potted by the doorway: his sign for letting someone else doing the talking. Teyla folded her hands in front of her and smiled carefully at Therell. "Of course; what limits are these?"

* * *

Meanwhile, McKay was hovering around the statue, eyes darting between his scanner and some detail on its surface. He had already been around the room several times, but there was little to hold his interest there; even the patterns of unknown metal on the pillars began out of arm's reach. Repeatedly he was drawn back to the hall's centerpiece, especially the sword held in an outstretched stone hand--it appeared to be made completely of the luminescent metal, as was a small object that formed the sword's tip. Faint lines spidered across the object's surface, outlining what seemed to be panels of various sizes and a pair of clasps that held the object to the rest of the sword.

"Looks like the readings are coming from the sword's tip," Rodney mused, punching a few buttons. "Definitely not a ZPM, too small...but...hm... Looks like the water would've flowed over here, and covered the device completely... What's the point of that?"

Ronon simply continued pacing. It seemed that whenever anyone who wanted to hear Rodney's thoughts as he worked, like Weir or Sheppard, the most reply they would get was, "Working!" But if someone who didn't ask questions was nearby they usually got the audio commentary, albeit a choppy and meandering one. As long as the job didn't involve too much pressure, of course. There were times Ronon could swear Mckay forgot to breathe at times like that.

* * *

"Your people may examine any part of the Pergatum they wish, but the Cleansing Guardian may not be touched."

"You mean the statue?" Sheppard spoke up. He had paused in his examination of a thory plant that resembled an earth cactus.

When Therell nodded, Teyla caught John's gaze and saw his eyebrows climb. Leaning forward slightly, she replied carefully, "The artifact you speak of may be of great significance; my people are very eager to study it." She realized "very eager" was a gentle way of putting Rodney's excitement; she did not want to imagine his disappointment at this news.

Therell shook his head. "We have our reasons for this. How much do you know of the Pergatum, Emmagen?"

Teyla lowered her eyes for a brief moment before meeting Therell's again. "Very little, I am afraid; only that its name means 'court of cleansing'. We had hoped our studies today would tell us more of it."

"I will tell you more, then. The Pergatum is named in the tongue of the Ancestors, akin to those your people call Ancients. Ever since their coming, and when their people mingled with ours, the Pergatum was the Ardonian hall of justice. However, it held a power far greater than judgment: it could cleanse a man's spirit and take the evil from him. The guilty would only place his hands into the water beneath the Cleansing Guardian's sword, and he would be made pure and set free." As he spoke, the Regent sat motionless, hands still and face unchanged.

Teyla briefly wondered what Rodney's reaction to these claims would be and hid a smile. "Would those who were let go not repeat their crimes?" she asked.

"Never once," was the firm reply.

* * *

"And would you _please_ stop stealing my Power Bars!"

"You brought at least twenty of 'em. Figured you could spare a few."

"They're for emergencies. Like, oh, you know, all those times we get stuck on a planet for some stupid reason and I have to save everyone's lives, again, and those Power Bars end up being the only thing between me and hypoglycemic shock?"

"Right." Ronon began to unwrap the Power Bar and took a large bite.

McKay sighed in exasperation before peering at the screen of his scanner again. Of course, since he had studied the readings scores of times already, there was nothing new to see. He stuffed it into his pack and crossed his arms sullenly across his chest. "We should have waited outside," he murmured. "At least we could have watched the grass grow."

"Could always spar to pass the time," Ronon grinned, receiving only an indignant snort in response.

"Figures that I'd be the one stuck here. When everything goes wrong, it's, 'Fix this impossible problem, McKay! Save our skins for the millionth time, McKay! We're all depending on you, McKay!' But here I am, wasting my time while Sheppard is probably off at some huge welcoming feast. I wonder what kind of food they have here. Probably roasted possums or pickled squirrels or-- What are you doing?"

This question was directed at Ronon as he began to stride purposefully towards the statue's base. Without warning, he pushed the clasps in and gave the device a sharp tug, pulling it off of the sword's tip. Bluish light licked at his fingertips for a moment before the object dulled and faded to a bland silver color. Ronon then shoved it into McKay's hands and brushed his own off on his coat. "Just look at it if it'll keep you quiet."

McKay stared at him, conflicted between shock and admiration and holding the device in his hands as if it were the Crown Jewels. He stammered for a moment before mumbling something about "might as well look at it" before snatching up his scanner and prying a panel off the side.

* * *

The Ardonian guide spoke very little on the way back. "Probably so he won't waste air," Sheppard murmured aside to Teyla, who responded with a reproachful but amused look.

The landscape contrasted with the medieval appearance of the Pergatum. Pre-industrial villages and sprawling farms were clustered loosely around the Stargate, dotted with crumbled stone and worn statues as the only reminders of the heritage the Pergatum represented. The walk back to the hall was a long one, and with a twinge of guilt Teyla realized that Ronon and Rodney had been waiting for quite some time, now.

By the time she and the Colonel had reached the Pergatum, the workers who had been carrying the vines away were gone, and every last bit of dust had been swept back into its place. Before Teyla's eyes could adjust to the greenish darkness inside the building, Sheppard spoke angrily beside her.

"Damn it, McKay!"

Device in hand, Rodney stared at them wide-eyed: the proverbial child caught in a cookie jar. One hand snapped up to point at Ronon.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: _In the midst of obsessing over the beginning of season five and how amazing "Search and Rescue" was, I managed to put the finishing touches on this chapter. Thank you to those who have reviewed! It's a huge encouragement! And with that, the continued story, with special thanks to Alexis Kent for the beta.  
_

* * *

"Look, I assure you that there was absolutely no damage done, and we even put it back _exactly_ the way it was! It's been almost a day and the Ardonians haven't even noticed a difference."

Sheppard watched McKay wander around the briefing room as he talked, waving his hands animatedly as Elizabeth listened with a longsuffering look on her face. Teyla sat nearby with a similar expression. Ronon was absent, off in the infirmary being hovered over by Carson; after all the times things went wrong off-world, they wanted to be sure the short contact with the alien technology didn't have any side effects.

"In fact, I think we could just put this all behind us," McKay continued, pausing to look pleadingly at Elizabeth. "Can't we just not bring it up?"

Elizabeth wove her fingers together in front of her and looked pointedly at McKay. "We don't want to be starting off on the wrong foot with these people. Lying is definitely the wrong foot."

The scientist squirmed under her gaze. "What do you expect me to say? 'Oh hi, remember that thing you said we could never ever touch? I looked at it anyway, because Donkey Kong shoved it into my hands!'"

"Sounds about right," Sheppard smirked, "just take out the part about Donkey Kong. They probably haven't heard of him."

"I'm sure you'll be able to think of something before tomorrow." Standing to her feet, she smiled brightly at those gathered. "Alright, dismissed."

Upon leaving, Sheppard took the hall that would lead by the infirmary. While he doubted the spirit-cleanser thing Rodney was looking at could hurt anyone, he figured checking on Ronon couldn't hurt. A short ways down, he found Rodney taking the same path. Rodney slowed a little, allowing Sheppard to fall into step beside him.

"I can't believe she making me explain it to Therell. It was bad enough we had to spend an entire day and night there without getting a thing done. Why can't Ronon? He's the one who actually took the thing! Or Teyla—she's good at stuff like that!"

"Well, McKay, we all know how good you are with people; wouldn't want to deprive you of a chance to show it off."

"Very funny, Colonel." McKay stopped by a door. "Oh, the infirmary--might as well, uh," he pointed inside, "check on Ronon while I'm here." Sheppard smirked as the scientist went in. McKay's quarters were in the opposite direction.

"Figured you'd show up soon enough," Carson commented when the two entered. Teyla was already there, standing by the bed where Ronon sat rather stiffly.

"I was just passing by on the way to, uh--" protested Rodney, but Carson ignored the interrupted and continued.

"Like I was just telling Teyla, it looks like Ronon suffered no ill effects from the device. Everything checks out."

"So how're you feeling?" Sheppard asked Ronon.

"Hungry."

A grin broke out on McKay's face. "Food sounds great!" He rubbed his hands together. "So, to the mess hall?"

Carson looked sternly at Ronon. "Go on, lad, but none o' that again."

As they walked, Sheppard couldn't help but notice a tinge of guilt beneath McKay's relieved and cheerful demeanor. This was further confirmed when they all sat down with their food and McKay nudged his dessert (a brownie with ice cream) towards Ronon. Teyla smiled at him while Sheppard opened his mouth to make a dieting quip when Ronon refused the offer.

"No thank you, I do not care for desserts. Here, have mine."

Rodney stared at the two brownies in front of him with confusion before shooting Sheppard a triumphant look and digging in.

"Probably shouldn't eat too much, McKay, or you'll regret it later on during training," Sheppard commented.

McKay froze with a spoonful of ice cream halfway to his mouth. "Oh, come on," he pleaded, looking at Ronon. "The least you could do is let me off, since I have to explain _your_ blunder to Therell."

Ronon shrugged, pushing his half-eaten tray of food away. "If you do not want to train today, I will not make you. Now, is there somewhere I could store this so it is not wasted?"

Sheppard eyed Ronon. Characteristic slouch absent, his teammate sat stiffly in his chair with a formal smile on his face. Sheppard crossed his arms on the table and leaned forward. "You sure you're feeling okay?"

Ronon smiled back at him. "Like I said, I feel fine. I simply do not need this much food at the time. Now, where should I store it?"

* * *

It couldn't simply be good luck. Now, no one would ever hear Rodney complain about being let off of one of Ronon's training sessions. First of all, it was unheard of. It wasn't that Rodney didn't appreciate the effort his teammate put into teaching him, not to mention his considerable patience with Rodney's sluggish progress, but Ronon was a terrible stickler in holding him to each session. Second of all, the bruises from _last_ week's training had yet to heal. Nonetheless, Rodney found himself making his way to the infirmary.

"Hello, Rodney. Got another splinter to get out?" Carson teased good-naturedly without looking up from his microscope.

"What? Uh…'course not," Rodney answered. He picked up a test slide and pretended to look at it. "A guy can, can drop in on his best friend without needing a reason, right?"

He looked up to see Carson watching him. "Somethin's bothering you."

"It's just, uh, what I mean to say is—" Rodney jerkily waved a hand. "It's just…Ronon's not acting normal. Well, not like Ronon's normal on the best of days." He gave a forced laugh.

"Rodney, his blood work checks out. There were no abnormalities."

"Then run more tests! I'll, um, I'll go fishing with you when we get a day off!"

"Ye' don't need to bribe me to make sure Ronon's alright, ye' know." The doctor smirked. "But I will hold ye' to that fishing trip."

"Right, right." Rodney fidgeted for a moment more, then examined the picture of Edinburgh on the wall calendar, then pointed at the door. "I'll, uh, be going, then."

Carson looked at him earnestly. "Don't worry. I'll let ye' know the moment I finish if I find out anything."

* * *

The afternoon sun was streaming through the windows by the time Teyla began to make her way to the gym. She had lost track of time over coffee with Kate Heightenmeyer, and her arrival to the exercise room was later than normal. It was nearly empty, with a couple of Marines preparing to leave and Ronon at a punching bag in the corner

"Ronon," she greeted him while gathering her sparring sticks from her pack. His strange behavior during lunch had been nagging at her mind, but she saw no reason to bring it up.

He paused to wave before resuming his assault on the punching bag. A frown creased Teyla's brow before she turned away. He was fighting as if afraid to damage the punching bag—and she was certain it wasn't due to the face the last three had met untimely ends at his hands.

She swung the sticks a few times, feeling the weight of the smooth wood in her hands. "Would you like to spar?" she offered.

"No, thank you," Ronon replied without turning. "I would not want to hurt you."

Trying not to react too strongly, Teyla said evenly, "As you know, I can handle myself."

"What he means to say is that he can't, because he's supposed to be training me now." It was Rodney, standing in the doorway dressed in that ridiculous white and yellow outfit he liked so much. He bore a wooden sword in one hand, his black chest guard under an arm, and an expression of suppressed apprehension on his face.

Teyla smiled at him, honestly surprised. "I was not expecting to see you here today, Rodney. You seemed eager for Ronon's excusing you earlier."

Rodney laughed nervously. "He was obviously joking, so here I am. So. Let's get this over with, shall we?" He began to strap the chest guard on.

Ronon continued his mechanical punching. "No, I was not joking. Besides, I might hurt you."

"Isn't that the point?" Rodney's laugh softened the sarcasm. "You always seemed to get a kick out of it before."

Ronon looked at him solemnly. "It is different now. My spirit has been cleansed."

Teyla exchanged an unnerved glare with Rodney, who seemed wounded. He quickly masked the look. "Teyla, looks like you get the honors this week." He awkwardly brandished the wooden sword. "And uh…go easy on me."

"Just over here, lad, now if ye'll just lie down a moment." Carson carefully watched Ronon as he herded him towards the Ancient medical scanning device. Ronon was hard to read at the best of times, but there did seem to be something different. Maybe Rodney was onto something.

Ronon perched on the edge of the hospital bed. "Did you not already run tests today?"

"Just a blood test, but ye' can never be too careful. Go on, now."

Turning away, the doctor missed the calculating look his patient gave him before obeying. Carson activated the Ancient medical scanning device and turned to watch the readings that began to scroll by. His eyes widened for a moment before he felt Ronon's steady gaze on him.

"Ye' just sit tight here a bit, there's somethin' I need to check," Carson said quickly, gathering a print of the scan and motioning an assistant to stay with Ronon.

Carson finally found Rodney outside the gym with Teyla. He was gingerly shrugging into his uniform jacket, obviously trying not to wince. "You call that going easy?" his friend was saying. "Must be a—ouch-- hobby for you two. Beat the crap out of Rodney."

"You did very well; you have progressed a great deal recently," she began, but Carson had to interrupt.

"Rodney, Teyla, ye' need to see this." He held out his clipboard so that both could see the patterns of lines and squiggles crisscrossing various grids and graphs.

Teyla frowned at the chart. "What does it mean?"

Carson looked earnestly at Rodney. "I did the extra test like ye' suggested. This," he pointed at a flat line, "is Ronon's brain activity. Nothin' shows at all. Normally this would mean he's dead or in a vegetative state--"

"But he's obviously not," Rodney interrupted needlessly, eyes widening.

"--Or his brain activity has changed to where it can't be picked up by our scanning equipment," Carson finished.

"Is such a thing possible?" asked Teyla. Her voice was subdued and steady, but her grip on her pack tightened.

"I wouldnae' think so, I've never seen anything like it before," Carson answered.

Rodney paled. "Do you think he could be a replicator?"

"No, that can't be it. The blood tests were clean, the DNA identical..."

"Oh God, he touched that device back in the Pergatum!" Rodney exclaimed, paling. "Who knows what it did to him?"

"Rodney, calm down—I'm sure there is an explanation and a way to reverse whatever happened," Teyla said carefully. "Perhaps the Ardonians know more of its function than they have told us."

Avoiding their eyes, Rodney gave a quick nod. "Right. Right. When I go back tomorrow to explain everything to Therell, I'll, uh...ask him about it."

"I will go with you to speak to him," Teyla offered.

Rodney set his jaw and shook his head. "No, no. You don't understand; he wouldn't have touched that thing if it weren't for me. If anything happened to Ronon it's _my fault_. At least let me help set it straight."

Carson glanced at Teyla, who slowly nodded. They both knew there was no arguing with him when he was like this. "Ye' be careful, now, aye? Don't do anything foolish."

His friend responded with a forced smile. "Puh-lease. This is me we're talking about." With that he quickly turned and strode away.

Carson sighed. "Strangely, I'm not comforted."


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: _Thank you very much for the reviews! I continue to shamelessly beg for more; I'd love to hear any thoughts, feedback, suggestions...all that good stuff. Now, less groveling and more story: _

* * *

"I can't believe you let him go on his own!" Sheppard stared at Weir, as if her reasoning behind the decision could be read in her face. "You know as well as I do how good he is at getting into trouble. You should've sent the whole team."

She returned his gaze evenly. "I understand how you feel, John, but for now, this is just a simple discussion. He needs to patch things up with Regent Therell before we can actually begin investigating."

"And that's another thing! This is Ronon we're talking about. You're acting like we're trading beans or something." Sheppard raked his fingers through his hair as he walked erratically around Weir's desk.

"Don't think for a moment that I care less about his well-being than you do, Colonel," she replied, a slight edge to her voice. "But alienating the Ardonians will not help Ronon."

"What're we going to do, just keep him penned up in the infirmary with that excuse of quarantine? You saw the charts, Elizabeth." He stopped to look at her. Her face was calm and diplomatic, but the tightness around her eyes betrayed her worry. Maybe she wasn't as indifferent as her words might imply. Softening his tone slightly, he added, "Something is seriously wrong here."

For a moment Elizabeth's eyes avoided his. "Teyla told me Ronon said something about his 'spirit being cleansed.' After what happened to Rodney with--" She paused, swallowing. Sheppard understood the reaction; the memory of the situation still stung. They had been so close to losing him, so very close. "--With the ascension device, I wonder if this could be related."

Sheppard struggled for an answer. None came to mind; he did _not_ need to be reminded of the machine that had dragged his friend to the brink of death, and he knew that ranting about the Ancients now would only bring Weir to valiantly defend them. Again. "I've got to go," he said at length. "I'll be back for the briefing when Rodney gets back." Because he would get back. Sheppard just needed to keep reminding himself of that.

* * *

"Doctor McKay," Regent Therell said politely, motioning the scientist to a roughly-carved chair. "It is an honor to have your company again. Please sit down."

"Uh, sure. Right." Rodney lowered himself into the chair and promptly began to shift and fidget. He wasn't good in diplomatic or negotiating situations by any stretch of the imagination, and the fact that he was here to admit to the very thing the Regent had forbidden didn't make it any easier. "So, uh, how's the farming?" He winced a little the moment the words were out of his mouth, kicking himself inwardly.

Therell did not seem bothered. "The weather has been kind to us, and the crop should be plentiful when it comes."

"Great. Great stuff, farming. Very fascinating and, uh...fascinating. Always interested me." Okay. This was _not_ helping. He craned his neck to look out the window behind him. "Nice weather today." Wait, no, hadn't someone already mentioned that? He was beginning to regret not bringing Teyla, after all.

"You are interested in farming?" Therell's tone betrayed neither belief nor sarcasm. "Perhaps I could gather a group to show you around our farmlands. We are beginning to develop new methods of watering our crops, and we are open to advice."

Rodney fumbled for a response that wouldn't force him to admit that he was ignorant of the subject. "That's, well, that's not exactly why I came here..."

Therell dipped his head slightly. "Of course. Then what is it?"

McKay braced himself. Might as well get it over with. "There was an, uh, well I wouldn't say _mistake_, but it wasn't entirely intentional, and what I mean to say is..." He paused, then blurt out, "One of our team picked up the device attatched to that statue in the Pergatum."

For a moment the Regent only stared at him. He did not move, hands still clasped formally before him, face impassive. "It wasn't actually me," Rodney continued to ramble, unnerved by the gaze. "And you can't really blame Ronon, he thought I wanted to and he doesn't always think before doing things! Why, there was one time when--"

"He picked it up? With his hands?"

"No. With his feet. Gorillas are good at that, you know," snapped Rodney, nervousness shortening already-strained patience.

Therell rose to his feet. His expression changed little, but his tone was unmistakable. "Out."

"Wait! Look, sorry! Oh, God, I told them I wasn't good at these things." Rodney sprang up as well, waving his hands. "Just listen to me."

"We gave you orders."

"We didn't know at the time!" Rodney insisted.

Therell took one step closer, and McKay supressed the urge to step away. "You were told to touch nothing, to wait for our assistance!"

"We're-- We're really, really sorry about that." Why did he refuse Teyla's help again? Stupid, stupid, stupid! "But we need to figure out that thing, and--"

"Dr. McKay," said Therell icily, "you will leave now. Your people are no longer welcome here."

"Look!" Rodney burst out, "Something is wrong with my friend, and it's my fault. He needs help and I'm not taking no for an answer!"

"You have little choice. Synde will escort you back to the Ancestral Ring." The air was brittle with tension as they stared at each other.

It wasn't long before McKay found himself at the foot of the stargate with Synde hovering behind him. The escort watched him closely as he dialed the gate. Though McKay strongly doubted Synde would realize that the sequence for Atlantis wasn't being entered, he couldn't help but be nervous under the observation. A terse goodbye was exchanged when the wormhole whirled into existence, and without a glance back at Ardon, McKay left for the alpha site.

* * *

Lt. Daniels, above average. Cpt. Stanley, above average. Sgt. King...who was that, again? Must be a new assignment. Oh well, above average. Maj. Lorne, excellent. Sgt. Everson, above average.

Sheppard leaned his chair back, keeping it steady with a foot on a leg of the mess hall table, checking off box after box on the performance evaluation list. Weir probably wasn't going to buy this, but there was no harm trying.

Above average...above average...why not an excellent, now...

"What is that?" Sheppard looked up to see Teyla standing nearby. Her face was as serene as ever, but only years of friendship allowed him to see the tension beneath.

"Performance evaluations. Figured I might as well get them out of the way now, since..." Sheppard caught himself.

"...Since you can't keep your mind on anything else?" she finished for him. Okay, perhaps years of friendship had made him more transparent, too. Looking up to meet her eyes, he realized that she knew because she felt the same.

Sheppard rocked the chair back into place and tossed the list onto the desk. "Yeah." He picked up the pen lying next to the performance evaluation list, dropping it onto the table, picking it up, dropping it again. Clatter, clatter, clatter. It seemed like a clock, slowly ticking off the moments. "McKay should've been back by now," he finally said. "I can't believe Weir let him go alone."

"It was not an easy decision."

When he looked at Teyla, she was studying her hands. "Not an easy decision?" he repeated. "It's McKay. If there's a way to get into trouble, he'll find it."

"A trait he shares with you," she reminded him with a fond smile.

Sheppard smirked concedingly before growing serious again. "If he's not back by check-in time, we're heading out with Lorne to find him." He dropped the pen onto the table again. Clatter.

Teyla nodded. "It will be...strange, going to find him without Ronon with us."

The Colonel sat up quickly, leaning over the table towards her. "Now that's just it," he said emphatically, "For some reason, it's just worse because it's Ronon. With all the things that we've been through, he's always just the same old Ronon. Unless you count the time Lucius was here."

Teyla looked at him with a reproachful smile. "Let us not bring that up." She stood as she added, "I am going to go see him. Did you wish to come with me?"

Sheppard's expression darkened. "Maybe later."

"He is still Ronon, John," Teyla said quietly.

Clatter. "Be ready to head out in two hours."

He felt Teyla's gaze on him, but he snatched up his list like a shield. "Of course," he heard her say, then her retreating footsteps faded.

* * *

McKay's arrival at the alpha site was predictably met with surprise. However, the nominal guard there, led by one Major Delvens, seemed hesitant to question him. And rightly so. The moment he stepped through the gate, McKay summoned up his patent arrogant bluster and began to walk by the major as if he wasn't even there.

"Doctor McKay."

Rodney spun to stare at the speaker. "What is it, Delvens?"

"We weren't expecting anyone from Atlantis to be checking in today. Is anything wrong?"

"Yes. Atlantis's chief scientist's time is being wasted on having to answer stupid questions instead of getting important work done."

The major frowned. "What kind of important work?"

Rodney shot the man his strongest "I can't believe you just asked me such a stupid question" glare. He sighed. "Even if I felt like taking the time to explain it so you can understand, I don't think any of us have three million years to spare. Anything else you'd like to ask?"

As he had hoped, the others suddenly remembered important things to do elsewhere, leaving him alone. Rodney allowed himself a proud smirk as he began to go about his business.

The equipment at the alpha site was simple and basic, but it was easy to make a show of tinkering with it, checking scanners and making adjustments. Every now and then a marine would wander by, but a belittling glare usually sent them on their way soon enough.

After this went on for an hour or so, the thought occurred to him that Atlantis might be wondering why he was gone so long. He checked his watch. There was still plenty of time before the official check-in, but even so a simple talk with Regent Therell—even one that didn't end as pathetically bad as it had—would have had him back at Atlantis by now. Rodney scowled down at the circuits he was toying with. The last thing he wanted was for everyone to show up on Ardon, making a lot of noise and drawing attention to themselves before he could finish.

Rodney stood, slinging his pack on and brushing off the knees of his pants. The others were paying little to no attention to him, but he announced, "Back to Atlantis!" on his way back to the stargate, just in case. He hesitated a moment before dialing Ardon's gate address. The only thing worse than having a team from Atlantis show up when he was there would be for him to come back into a pack of Ardonians weeding around the stargate or something ridiculous like that. But there was little choice now, and this would most likely be his only chance.

As luck would have it (despite the fact McKay would scoff as such a suggestion), the area around the gate was deserted when he stepped out of the wormhole. This didn't do much to help his nerves. Trying to not imagine the possibility of a hundred Ardonians jumping out from behind the bushes and fences with pitchforks and torches, he set out for the Pergatum.

"It's a good thing Sheppard's not here," he mumbled under his breath to distract himself. "His sense of direction is laughable. I'm surprised he doesn't get lost in his own room. Especially considering how messy he keeps it."

He stopped stiff, straining to listen. Was that a sound? No, just his imagination. He went on. "Like those DvDs I lent him. Two entire seasons of the Batman Animated Series. Swallowed up in the black abyss, couldn't find them for at least a week. Does he have any idea of the sentimental value of those? Clueless, that's Sheppard. Pretty much describes him." Rodney jumped at another sound, then relaxed as he saw a lizard run across the road. He swallowed nervously before continuing on, trying to ignore just how much he wished Sheppard the Clueless was with him now.

The way he was taking to the Pergatum was definitely the scenic route (using the word "scenic" loosely, of course), but well before he expected it he arrived at his destination. Once just a plain, blocky building of muted, vine-striped gray, the sight appeared suddenly sinister and dangerous. Instead of sniffing critically at the mustiness spilling from the entrance, he found himself hesitating outside.

This place changed Ronon. And as much as Rodney might joke about how his teammate could use an IQ boost or some "How to not be a Caveman 101," that terrified him. Ronon had always been the same, an anchor, despite what happened to the team. Between Sheppard's insectile transformation, Teyla's struggle with her Wraith connection, and his own bizzare mishaps with the ascension machine and Cadman (he quickly shoved that memory aside)--until now, Rodney hadn't realized how much he depended on Ronon's quiet but fierce loyalty.

It was time to get all of that back. He let himself dwell on Ronon's courage and ridiculous, nigh-insane toughness as approached the statue. It was time to take matters into his own hands—with gloves on, of course.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: _Again, many thanks to those who have taken the time to review. I appreciate the feedback very much and would love to hear more, including constructive criticism! _

* * *

For reasons she did not want to admit to, Teyla found herself putting off her visit to the infirmary. It wasn't that she doubted Ronon's identity as John did, but she cringed at the thought of once-smoldering eyes now blank and cheery. McKay's check-in time was looming by the time she found herself outside the infirmary, being helped into a hazmat suit by Dr. Beckett. Among her drifting thoughts she realized the doctor was speaking.

"This is jus' for show, really. There are no infectious elements involved, but it's either keepin' him under quarantine or keepin' him locked up somewhere."

"I understand," Teyla replied, voice muffled by the helmet newly-fitted into place.

Beckett sighed, avoiding her eyes. "I don' like all this lyin'. Reminds me of all that with Michael." He said no more, but his silence spoke enough.

Teyla's eyes darkened. Mustering up a smile, she replied, "It is only temporary, Dr. Beckett. Rodney will find the cause of this, and I am certain with that help you will right whatever has changed." She couldn't bring herself to say "bring Ronon back", despite what those empty, happy eyes told her.

He looked at her gratefully. "Thank ye', Teyla. In ye' go, now."

She found Ronon sitting on one of the beds, long legs stretched out in front of him and hands clasped in his lap. "Hello, Teyla," he announced cheerily.

"Ronon." She did not have to force the wide smile that came. For a brief moment, she forgot the scans and strangeness and wondered why he found no reason to smile like that normally. "It is good to see you."

"The same, of course. Do you think Dr. Beckett will allow me to leave soon? I feel fine, and it is unecessary to keep me here."

The unease crept back, but she smiled. "The moment he is sure of this, yes. Despite what John may often say, Dr. Beckett does not keep him patients longer than is necessary."

Ronon's face became a mask of seriousness, a far more familiar expression, but still wrong somehow. "You always understood people better than most, Teyla." How could his words seem so earnest, yet spoken as if of the weather? "Our other friends haven't come, as you have. They almost seem to distrust me."

Teyla hesitated. "It is not that," she began, striving to choose her words carefully. "Rodney needed to return to Ardon to discuss an important matter with the Regent."

"And Sheppard?"

"He is...quite busy. With performance evaluations."

The bluff was weak, but he didn't call her on it. "I will look forward to it, then. But that does not explain why they act so strangely. My memories do not recall them acting this way in the past."

Her eyes wandered around the room, as if something in the isolation area would prompt the right words in her mind. "You have not been acting quite like yourself."

"But that is a good thing. There were many things wrong with me in the past, but my spirit has been cleansed. You will not have to be concerned with the flaws any longer."

Her throat tightened. "What do you mean? No, nevermind--Dr. Beckett and Rodney will make things right again." It was what she had been telling herself all this time, after all.

Realization came into the blank eyes. "Is that what this is, then? Do you all think I am diseased from the Pergatum? No, no." He shook his head in pitying disbelief. "It's completely the opposite. The spirit was diseased."

Teyla stared at him. She took a clumsy step back, hampered by the hazmat suit. "You are not saying this," she said emphatically. "You are not saying this. Ronon did not need to be _changed_." She spat the last word like a foul thing.

"Teyla, gear up." John's crackling voice over the radio was more than welcome.

She turned away as quickly as the cumbersome suit would allow her. "I must go." With that, the isolation room and its occupant was left behind, but she could not draw her mind away.

When she arrived at the gate, John, Major Lorne, and two men she recognized as being from Lorne's team were already there. It always felt so wrong whenever a mission began with anyone from the team absent, and now only half of her team stood in the gate room. As she approached John greeted her with a weary smile. She could see apology in his eyes, though Teyla felt none was needed.

"Dial the gate," Dr. Weir's voice came from above, but she was cut off.

"Incoming wormhole! Dr. McKay's IDC."

"Lower the shield," Weir replied quickly before starting towards the stairs.

"Going for fashionably late, Mckay?" Sheppard quipped the moment the scientist appeared. Teyla noticed how despite the joking, the colonel's gaze studied Rodney for any sign of harm. Other than dusty clothing and gloves that dripped water, though, everything appeared normal.

Ignoring the comment, Rodney approached Dr. Weir. "Our problems are solved," he said simply.

Elizabeth's brows shot up, looking both skeptical and eager, but before she could react her brow furrowed in worry and she tapped her earpiece. "Carson, what is it?"

_"It's Ronon!" _came the tinny response. _"He's passed out an' not respondin' to any attempts at revival."_

Sheppard shot McKay a harsh look. "Solved, are they?"

* * *

With dull eyes, Sheppard watched the doctors and assistants buzzing this way and that around Ronon's bed. He absently noted that their mouths were moving and words were being said, but it didn't matter. All the medical jargon would have gone over his head even if he were paying attention.

He could only stare for glimpses of the patient in between the white lab coats and try to piece together the brief moments into an image. His friend lay perfectly still; not as in sleep, not like a statue, not like any comparison his mind could settle on. It was as if he was a thing that had never moved and was never meant to move.

The daze Sheppard found himself was riddled with doubt. What if Ronon died? What if his own last actions towards him was to avoid him? Would he be able to handle it if that came to be true?

"Sheppard?" Carson's voice behind him was unexpected, but Sheppard didn't have the will to be startled.

His voice sounding strange to his own ears, he asked, "How bad is it, doc?" He tore his eyes away from their vigil and looked up at Carson.

"I really wish I could tell ye', John." The doctor shook his head, leafing through charts on a clipboard. "But I've never seen anythin' like this before."

"This is another galaxy," Sheppard tried to quip, "you should be used to that." Realizing how pathetic that sounded, he added, "At least tell me what you've got."

"To put it simply, we're tryin' to isolate the cause of his condition. Accordin' to the scans, he should've been like this nearly a day ago, but somethin' had to have triggered it. An' we still don't know what caused the abnormalty to begin with. I'd have guessed some sort of virus, but there were no contaminants in his blood. And if it's somethin' we cannae detect, it's going to be even more difficult an' more risky to treat."

"Work on it." It came out harsher than he meant it, but didn't correct himself.

"We are, lad." There was a hint of defeat in Carson's voice that Sheppard refused to acknowledge. Instead, he again turned to stare, unseeing, at the blur of white that veiled his friend.

* * *

"I'm telling you, it's fine. He's going to wake up any moment." McKay stood with his hands in his pockets, idly watching Dr. Beckett fill a syringe.

"How can you be so calm?" Sheppard demanded angrily. It had been hours since Ronon's collapse, but the infirmary outside the isolation room was particularly crowded. The infirmary was free of patients other than Ronon, and apparently Dr. Beckett couldn't bring himself to deny those concerned. The Satedan seemed to be surprisingly popular, though his visitors seemed to mostly consist of women who had crushes on him instead of personal friends. Many of these were herded away before long, but Ronon's team was undisturbed. That is, from the outside.

"Because all of us should be calm." McKay responded with a shrug. "The situation will resolve itself, so there's no reason to panic."

Carson looked up from the syringe. "Since when were you ever one not to panic, Rodney?"

"If you knew what I knew, you'd be calm as well."

"Then, tell us," Sheppard replied with forced patience.

McKay shrugged. "You'll see that I'm right. In fact, I have a project to work on. If you'll excuse me..."

Sheppard glowered at Rodney's back as he left, then returned his brooding gaze to the doorhandle of the isolation room. Teyla seemed ill at ease, glancing between the two of them, but apparently deciding to remain.

When McKay arrived at the lab, he found Zelenka leaning over a pair of laptops and mouthing silently to himself. The Czech didn't notice Rodney's presence until he standing just behind him, watching lines of data flash by rapidly on the screens.

"What are you working on?" McKay asked.

"Rodney!" Zelenka exclaimed, jumping to his feet and backing away from the laptops. "I just needed comparison to some data you had on your computer, I swear I didn't change anything." He raised his hands in a placating gesture.

"Go ahead, I wasn't going to use the computers anyway. Do you know where the plants are kept?" He stuffed his hands in his pockets, looking around the room.

Zelenka blinked, conflicted about what to be more surprised at: the question or the lack of rage. "The botany lab?" He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Rodney, if you're looking for Katie Brown, she's going to be gone for a few more days."

"No, I said I was looking for plants. There is work that needs to be done."

Zelenka eyed him skeptically, but brought up a small map of the city. "For all the bragging you do about your sense of direction being better than the Colonel's, I have to say, at least he doesn't forget his way around Atlantis." He pointed out the botany lab on the map. "So," he ventured, "starting a new project?"

"I have work to do, if that's what you mean." Rodney's eyes scanned the map for a route, then with a smile and nod at Zelenka turned to leave.

"Wait, Rodney--"

McKay stopped. "Yes?"

"I have to ask. Normally when anyone in your team is in infirmary you bring half the lab there and won't leave until they've completely recovered."

McKay's expression remained unchanged. "Like I keep telling the others, Ronon's going to be fine. There's nothing to worry about. Now, let me do my work, and you can continue with whatever that is you're doing there."

The moment McKay was out of sight, Zelenka returned to the laptops and opened a half dozen programs on McKay's computer. Grinning, he began his work anew. There was no questioning Rodney when he was caught up in the beginning ideas of a new project. Whatever he was up to, there's no way Zelenka was going to let an opportunity like this slip by.


End file.
